


Love the Way You Lie

by goldensouls



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Liam Payne, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Angst, Beta Harry, Beta Niall Horan, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Gang Leader Liam, Knotting, M/M, Omega Louis, Omega Zayn, Possessive Behavior, Stripper Zayn Malik, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, excessive drug use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 02:09:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15547260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldensouls/pseuds/goldensouls
Summary: Zayn is a strong-willed omega with the town's alpha gang leader after his heart. Oh, and did he mention he's a stripper?





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Intoxicate Me, Mesmerize Me, Obliterate Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13967400) by [eternallyunleashed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternallyunleashed/pseuds/eternallyunleashed). 



> So it's one a.m and I'm finally posting this. I'm a few weeks away from the first day of classes and bored out my mind. So, I decided to write this as a distraction from that boredom as well as keep my mind off of thinking about an IMMMOM by eternallyunleashed update. for any of you who haven't checked that story out, you need to! I am obsessed. And before I end this note let me mention that, yes, there are some similarities between my fic and IMMMOM. however, besides the fact that Zayn is a strong-willed omega and Liam is an alpha leader of a gang, the similarities end there. anyways, I hope you guy enjoy and I'm off to bed. toodles!
> 
> ps. apologies for any mistakes and run on sentences

Art is something that’s been apart of Zayn’s life since he can remember. His father was the one who introduced him to it, Zayn’s small toddler hand trying to copy each stroke of his father’s pen as he sketched whatever caught his eye. For his sixth birthday, his baba bought him his first sketchpad which he tentatively used, unsure of himself owning such an exclusive pad of paper. Now a portion of Zayn’s room is littered with completed ones. Everything from the sun glinting in through his windows in the early mornings to strangers caught mid-sentence are captured in the pages of his sketchbooks. 

Currently, tendrils of smoke drift down from the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he doodles the lifeless street outside his window. The charcoal stains on his fingertips have become commonplace since he first took up the method of drawing. More times than not, you could find Zayn nestled in the nook of his lone apartment window, carving out images of whatever he sees around him. Presently, he was tucked into that same spot, slowly scanning the street. A lone foot dangled down towards the ground, barely brushing the cold floor as he finished the last stroke of the streetlight illuminating the night.

Zayn glances towards the clock hanging on the wall, taking note of the time. He lazily stubs out his cigarette on the window sill, sighing as he stands to prepare for the long night ahead. 

He steps over to his sorry excuse of a closet before stripping down to nothing and pulling on a leopard print g-string, a pair of distressed black jeans, a loose fitting black hoodie, and finally, a pair of sneakers. Zayn had been up for over an hour already, so he’d taken care of his bathroom necessities. He ran a hand through his hair, not needing to check a mirror, knowing it looks sex-muffed. Lastly, he grabs a cereal bar, his phone, and his keys before he’s out the door and locking up. 

After a short fifteen minute ride on the late-night city bus, Zayn’s stepping out into the street and entering a building he’ll be holed up in for the next six hours. 

Black Pony: Omega Strip Club

-

“Bambi Eyes!”, a familiar voice yells from within the strip club locker room, greeting Zayn once he rounds the corner. Louis, his best friend, and fellow stripper, essentially leaps atop him to say hello. Zayn smiles, the corners of his lips pulling up in amusement at the omega. 

“Hey, Lou.”

Louis wraps a hand around his arm and nearly drags Zayn over to their lockers, only one locker separating his and Louis’. “Ready for tonight?”, Louis questions, “I heard the Phantoms were coming in,” he not so subtly adds, staring knowingly at Zayn. 

Zayn rolls his eyes in annoyance, knowing where Louis is headed with his comment. “Louis, he’s here almost every night I work,” he sighs, unlocking his locker to begin changing his clothes for the second time that night, “I think I’ll be ok.” He slips off everything he’s wearing except for the g-string and pulls on a pair of neon pink shorts and clear stiletto heels. 

Louis huffs, knowing he’s been caught. “When are you going to stop fucking around and lock him down?,” he asks, jumping straight to the point, “and I mean in a relationship, not this one-sided game of cat and mouse you seem to be playing.” Zayn isn’t in the mood for another one of Louis’ lectures, and not bothering to answer Louis, he not-so-softly closes the door of his locker before striding out into the hallway, Louis hot on his tail. 

“Don’t ignore me! That man is in love with you and you need to make a decision…” the rest of what Louis says is drowned out by the loudness of the crowd as Zayn speeds up to lose him in the throng of people. 

As per usual, pervy alphas grubby hands reach out to paw at his skin as he passes by, lusting for a feel of the luscious omega’s body. Zayn makes a beeline for the backstage, ducking as many outstretched palms as possible. Tyler, his slimeball of a boss, spots him as soon as he ascends the stairs and nearly charges Zayn. “Where the fuck have you been?”, Tyler sneers, anger tinging his voice. 

Not only does Tyler hates nearly all of the strippers he employes, none near as much as he hates Zayn, he also gets off on groping and harassing the omegas. One ex-Black Pony stripper actually had a restraining order against Tyler for allegedly attacking her one night, threatening to force her to suck his dick after locking her in his office. Zayn would quit if he could, but no job that was willing to hire him paid nearly as well and unfortunately Black Pony was the only strip club in the town he lived in.

“I was changing. I’m here now,” Zayn answers shortly, irritation on the tip of his tongue. Zayn got to Black Pony ten minutes prior to the start of his shift in order to be exactly on time to his first performance of the night and minimize the duration of time he spent around Tyler. 

“You better fucking watch it or I’ll have you out on your ass,” Tyler threatens though it’s an empty one. Zayn is his highest earning employee and without him, Tyler would be shit out of luck. 

Zayn suppresses a snarky reply, not wanting to start an argument that will cut into his stage time and ultimately his money. He bites his tongue and begins to saunter out onto the stage when his stage name, Bambi Eyes, is called and the song Fuck You All the Time by Jeremih begins to play, signifying his cue to start dancing. 

He puts his all into dancing, thrusting and grinding his hips at all the right moments, mustering the sexiest looks he can into the crowd, and swirling naughtily around the pole situated at the end of the stage. Wolf whistles are continuous throughout Zayn’s performance and by now Zayn has learned to block it out, the sound becoming white noise, and focus on perfecting each dance move. However, one distraction he has yet to train himself to ignore is the heated stare of a certain alpha in the sea of alphas and betas currently watching him. 

Liam Payne. Leader of the Phantoms, the ruling gang of Clearwater. To most, he’s a terrifying, violent man who slings drugs and essentially runs Clearwater but to Zayn, he’s a different person. He’s sweet, caring, and would do anything for him. Liam, who was currently eating him alive with just his eyes. 

No matter how many times Liam watched Zayn perform Zayn would never be able to shake his gaze or the intense heat it sent through his body. Finally, Zayn locks eyes with Liam in his ending move. He sends a raunchy smirk and wink Liam’s way as he rips his shorts off to kneel in only his barely-there g-string, the crowd going wild as he does so. The only inclination that Liam has been affected is the slight clench of his jaw and narrowing of his eyes as the temperature in the room seems to rise with the intensity of his stare. 

Chest heaving with his staggering breaths and sweat glistening over his body, Zayn begins to make his way off the stage once the lights lining the edge go out. After his performance, another stripper will soon come on and then it will be Louis’ turn. 

Louis’s routine is to the song Cookie by R. Kelly and with the voluptuous curves and sexy moves Louis possess Zayn has no doubt that the crowd will be as riled up and drooling over him as they were with Zayn. 

Zayn bypasses going backstage and instead takes the stairs leading out into the crowd. He starts towards his assigned stripper pole but isn’t surprised when familiar warm hands wrap around his waist and pull him into a chiseled chest. 

“You looked so beautiful up there tonight baby,” a husky voice murmurs into his ear, soft lips brushing the tip of his ear as they pull back. 

Zayn shivers, placing his hands over Liam’s as he presses back into Liam and mumbles his reply, “Yeah? You like the ending?” Zayn mentions the last move he performed knowing the memory will rile Liam up. And he’s right, Liam tightening his hold on Zayn as he releases a quiet groan at the reminder of Zayn in only a thong. 

“Fuck, baby, it was flawless.”

Zayn smirks, turning around in Liam’s grasp to face the alpha. “I’m glad you liked it,” he paused to look up at Liam through his long lashes, knowing it drove the alpha crazy, “I practiced all day for you.” The alpha groans pulling Zayn closer so that he can feel Liam’s hardness through his jeans. Slick begins to form when Zayn feels his length, flashbacks to more intimate times coming to mind. Liam doesn’t miss the new development, nose perking up at the sweet scent of Zayn’s slick and his grip constricting further on Zayn’s hips. 

“I can’t wait to get my hands on you when you're done,” Liam says, nipping at Zayn’s neck. Every time they’re around each other, Liam can’t seem to keep his hands off of Zayn, constantly roaming them over his body and kissing whatever he can reach. Zayn doesn’t mind.

“Only five more hours,” Zayn remarks, tacking on a salacious grin at the end and winking before pushing gently at Liam’s chest so he’ll unhand him and Zayn can get back to his job. He may relish the attention Liam showers him in, but he still has bills to pay. 

-

It’s after hours, Black Pony having closed almost thirty minutes prior. Liam had stayed during Zayn’s entire shift, his gaze trained on Zayn while he danced, only lifting his gaze when Zayn went for bathroom breaks. Liam had puffed away on cigarettes and blunts the entire time, making conversation with Harry, his second-in-command, while throwing tens and twenties at Zayn as he twirled around the stage. 

At first, Zayn had argued and demanded Liam not toss money at him as he danced, stating he didn’t need Liam’s money. However, after Liam had stated Zayn was at work and it’d only right of him to cast the bills on stage Zayn had relented. 

His routine for the night had gone on well with only one minor hitch. Liam had put a man in a chokehold for getting a little too handsy with Zayn, the other alpha having attempted to pull Zayn off the stage and onto his lap. Liam had growled out a low threat to rip the creep’s dick off and shove it so far up his ass it’d come out of his mouth if he so even thought to lay another hand on Zayn. Zayn had definitely slicked up after that display of aggressive power. 

Currently, Zayn is back in the locker room, drying off from the quick shower he’d taken to remove the sweat and must of the club that drenched his body. Louis suddenly appears, walking through the archway and over to Zayn. Likewise, to what Zayn had looked like before his shower, Louis’ hair is matted down to his forehead from perspiration, a faint shimmer surrounding him from the glitter sporadically shot onto all the strippers throughout the night. 

Louis stops in front of Zayn, uncapping the water bottle he has fisted in his hand and unceremoniously chugs it down. “Another great night,” he gasps out after swallowing the large gulp of water in his mouth, “Made over 2,500 pounds!” Considering the Phantoms were here tonight, that amount doesn’t come as a surprise. Some nights Zayn has pulled as much as 6,000 pounds thanks to the Phantoms. 

“That’s great Lou,” Zayn supplies, replacing his towel with the clothes he originally arrived in. He makes sure to never leave the building wearing his stripper clothing, once having a drunken older beta follow him to the bus stop after recognizing the skanky shorts he wore earlier in the night. Zayn had had to pepper spray the man until he backed off, spitting curses and offhand comments about how much of a whore Zayn was before he left. 

The other omega bounces on his toes excitedly, “Yep,” Louis makes sure to pop the p, “and Eliza’s having a party back at hers, so that should be fun.” Eliza is another omega who works at the Black Pony. She’s a busty blonde who never seems to have a fresh dye job, darks roots always on display and a nasty habit for doing lines of cocaine. There’s a constant party going at Eliza’s so it’s a bit irrelevant Louis mentions she’s having one. 

“You’re invited.”

It’s a polite statement, Louis knowing that more nights than not when Zayn works he goes back with Liam to his place. Zayn appreciates the sentiment though, softly shaking his head no as a response. “No thanks, Liam’s actually waiting for me finish up in here then we’re off,” Zayn verbalizes his decline to the offer, pointing his thumb towards the door to signify Liam being in the lobby. “I’ll see you round though, ok? The Lucky Duck’s on Tuesday, right?”, Zayn questions, purposely mentioning their plans for pints at a local dive bar so Louis won’t think Zayn’s ditching him, though he knows Louis doesn’t. 

“Course, see ya, babe,” Louis dismisses him, waving Zayn off once he notices Zayn beginning to inch towards the exit. “And don’t let that alpha fuck all your brains out, Tuesdays are trivia night at Lucky Duck’s,” he calls out at the last moment as Zayn is halfway through the door. 

Zayn squawks, taken off guard by Louis’s demand before he snorts out a laugh. 

That’s his best friend. 

\- 

The air in the room is thick, low moans and obscene sounds of skin slapping together seeming to bounce off the walls. 

“Ohhh-uh, fuck. Yea, yea, right there Liam,” Zayn sobs out, clawing for a hold onto anything in his reach. Liam is pounding into him from behind and is ruthless with his assault on Zayn’s prostate, nailing it dead on with each thrust. They’ve been at it for a little over twenty minutes and Zayn is so close to reaching his peak, sparks running up and down his spine signaling his release any second now. 

They had left immediately after Zayn exited the locker room and as soon as they stepped through the threshold of Liam’s home, Liam was on Zayn like white on rice, slamming Zayn against the wall and attacking his lips. Things were quickly moved to the bedroom and after a wet and messy blow job on Zayn’s end things progressed to where they were now, Zayn on his hands and knees, head hanging low between his arms as he took anything and everything Liam gave him. 

“That’s right,” Liam barks, fingers biting into Zayn’s waist, sure to leave behind bruises in their wake. “Fucking. Take. It,” Liam punctuates each word with a snap of his hips, pleasure zinging throughout Zayn’s body, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull as stars seem to explode behind his eyelids. Slick is pouring from him in rivulets causing a squelching noise to form from Liam’s cock pistoning in and out of his hole. The backs of his thighs and the front of Liam’s are drenched in Zayn’s arousal. He’s shaking at the pleasure coursing through him. He’s so close, so close to cuming. He just needs a little more to push him over the edge. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” Zayn begs. A feral growl is heard behind him and suddenly, like a whip through the air, Liam’s hand soars down to smack Zayn’s right arse cheek with what seems to be all the strength in Liam’s body. Zayn tumbles over the cliff as his toes curl and his legs tremble as cum spurts from his cock and onto the cool sheets below him. His arms give out and he falls onto the bed beneath him. Liam pulls out, rapidly jerking his fist over his cock and directs his aim to the cleft of Zayn’s arse. Zayn, mind addled with one of the best orgasms he’s had in a while, turns his neck to look back at Liam. He wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and mutters a quiet, “Cum for me Liam,” blinking slowly up at Liam.

That’s all it takes for Liam to pop his knot and shower Zayn in his cum. A steady stream sprays down onto Zayn’ skin, embellishing it with a milky white design. Liam lands one last soft slap to Zayn’s arse once he’s finished, Zayn letting out a small whimper at the action, before slumping down to lay beside Zayn, the bed absorbing his weight as he does so. Liam pulls Zayn to his chest with an exhausted but content sigh. Zayn is still recovering from his high and sprawls limply across Liam’s front, useless for anything else until he regains his strength. A light kiss is dropped atop of Zayn’s forehead before the silent figure of exhaustion blankets him in slumber. 

Right as the tendrils of sleep begin to swallow him whole, Zayn’s ears pick up a quiet murmur of, “I love you,” that he does his best to ignore, squeezing his eyes closed tighter and snuggling further into Liam. 

-

The morning sunlight is filtering in through the curtains when Zayn’s eyes flicker open, drowsiness still clouding his senses. He’s in the same position he fell asleep in, on top of the hard chest of the alpha below him, Liam’s arm slung over his shoulders, large palm almost spanning the whole of Zayn’s back. Zayn takes a moment to brush his fingers over the dark coarse hair dusting Liam’s lower stomach and admire the chest piece tattoo stretching across Liam’s pecs. It’s a skull with an assortment of ghoulish faces trailing behind it, a dedication to the gang he’s in. There are numerous other tattoos littering Liam’s skin, full sleeves adorning his arms, however, the Phantoms tattoo is Zayn’s favorite. It sends a thrill up his spine each time Zayn sees it, reminding him of what exactly it is Liam does to generate the stacks of money Liam keeps hidden.

It’s well past noon the next day he’s sure and while Zayn has no responsibilities to tend to, he needs to be leaving soon. Very soon. As in, before Liam wakes up soon.

Zayn wasn’t one for relationships, including waking up the next morning in the arms of a man he indulged in a passionate night of sex and had let Liam know from the beginning how he felt. Which, is why their situation was more of an affair with a constant string of one night stands. It’s become a bit of a routine now, Zayn coming back to Liam’s after a long, tiresome shift a Black Pony, fucking, and Zayn, more times than not, successfully slinking off before Liam notices. 

So, with a final goodbye kiss to the center of Liam’s chest, Zayn gently raises up on his arms, resting his weight on the palms of his hands as he begins to maneuver his way off of Liam and out of the bed. He’s holding his breath the entire time as he fixes his gaze on Liam, monitoring him for any sign that he’s beginning to stir.

If Liam wakes then all of last night’s fun will be ruined. 

A sigh of relief exits Zayn’s mouth once both his feet meet the cool flooring, the hard part being over. Next, he searches for his clothing which was haphazardly tossed off of him last night in a rush for Liam to reach Zayn’s warm body. His jeans are laying in a pile at the foot of the bed, phone and keys still trapped within the confines of the pockets. His jeans had been hastily ripped off of him as he and Liam’s lips had mindlessly tangled together in desire, tossed aside forgotten. He jumps into the tight skinnies, shimmying to get them over his arse. Once he’s buttoned them up he peaks over at Liam, his features free of tension as light puffs of air continue to pass through his lips.

Everything seems to be going smoothly, Zayn only an article of clothing short from being dressed and a few strides from being out the door and headed home. Fingers crossed, Zayn turns to pick up his shirt once he spots it. He’s centimeters from grabbing the heap of fabric when a sharp creaking sound erupts from the floorboard he’s stepped on. Suddenly, Liam snaps awake, eyes wide open, and sits up in an instant, reflexes sharp from years of being in the Phantoms.

Zayn is so fucked. 

Liam’s eyebrows furrow, an expression of confusion overtaking his features for a split second before realization sinks in; Zayn is fleeing the scene of the crime. He relaxes back onto the bed once he registers this, resting his weight on his forearms as he gives Zayn a once-over, taking in the fresh bedhead and shirtless abdomen he’s sporting. “Didn’t quite make it this time,” Liam quips, referencing the fact that Zayn’s a notorious escape artist. 

This is what Zayn was trying to avoid, Liam trying to guilt Zayn back into his bed and himself into Zayn’s heart. Well, Zayn’s not going for it. “Fuck off Liam,” Zayn snaps, annoyance dripping from his tone. He rolls his eyes. Zayn knew this is what would happen if Liam woke before Zayn left. 

“For a while now I’d forgotten what you looked like in the morning light,” Liam continues nonchalantly, ignoring Zayn’s comment, “bit of a vampire, you are.”

Zayn pauses, and instead decides to attempt to cover his arse, “Louis rung me up asking for a ride home from Eliza’s,” he offers. Louis hadn’t, surely still strung out from the drugs and alcohol from the previous night, and Liam knows that. 

“That’s a shit excuse and you know it,” Liam says brusquely, not accepting the explanation Zayn tries to supply him with. When Zayn doesn’t reply, no new argument popping into his mind to defend himself, Liam barrels on, “If you’re going to lie to me at least make it believable.”

That sets Zayn off. Fuck trying to save face. Liam shouldn’t be surprised, as if Zayn’s departure is a new development in their relationship. “You know what?” Zayn's questions sarcastically, “You’re right. I don’t need to lie to you. You know why?” Zayn asks rhetorically, “Cause we’re not a fucking couple. You’re not my boyfriend, Liam. So _yes _, I was ditching you. Knew you’d try and get me to stay, serve me breakfast in bed or some shit.”__

____

Liam looks crushed at Zayn’s admission as if the carpet’s been pulled from underneath his feet, though the expression is gone within a second. “And what’s so wrong with that?” 

Zayn, still pissed, hardly register what Liam has said as he spits off the first things to come to mind. “Come off it Liam! This isn’t some stupid romance novel where we fall in love and skip off into the sunset.” At the last second, he tacks on a, “I’ll never be yours!”, at the end just to make sure he’s gotten his point across. 

As if things could get worse, Liam’s countenance shift to one Zayn hasn’t seen in a long time. A hollow, blank expression slides into place atop Liam’s features, the hair on Zayn’s arm standing on end at it. “Leave then,” Liam says, unfeelingly. 

Zayn, with much less vigor than before, mutters a quiet, “Gladly,” before he’s scooping up his t-shirt and striding out of Liam’s house.  
-

It’s hours following the morning after fiascos and, much like the previous night, Zayn is sat perched at his windowsill, this time a blunt encased by his lips. As soon as he’d gotten home he’d lit up a spliff, currently puffing on his third one now. A group of young omegas, probably in their early twenties, are flocked outside of his window, waiting for the city bus to come. Their mini skirts are an array of colors, almost ranging the entire rainbow, faces caked with makeup, and legs miles long. Zayn’s eyes trail over the omegas, committing their appearance to memory as he begins to sketch their figures on the pad of paper resting in his lap. 

He can’t focus, each line he draws uneven due to the shakiness of his hand. The events of this morning seem to be set on repeat in Zayn’s mind. Liam had looked so hurt, each word Zayn spewed seeming to cut to the bone. However, the expression Liam had taken on after Zayn’s final statement is the most painful to think of, though it seems to be burned into his mind, seeing it each time he blinks. Liam’s eyes had shuttered off to an emotionless pit, a cold mask gliding into place over Liam’s face. It reminded Zayn of the stone-cold Liam who’s leader of the Phantoms, the Liam that Zayn thought he didn’t know anymore. 

“Fuck!” he yells in frustration, throwing his sketchpad onto the ground, a loud thud resounding throughout the apartment. 

Just then his phone buzzes with a notification. Zayn stands, begrudgingly trudging over to his nightstand, unsure of what the alert could be. He presses the home button, the screen lighting up. He’s not expecting the text message that greets him.

**Liam: **  
_I’ll be at Black Pony _@ 3:15__****

****____ ** **

****____ ** **

Zayn was sure Liam was done with him, but the message indicates differently. It’s vague, but Zayn knows exactly what Liam is trying to convey. HeC has moved on from their earlier disagreement and wishes for Zayn to move on with him.

In an hour he’ll need to start readying for his next shift at the Black Pony and in seven hours he’ll be with his Liam.


	2. chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hola! first, i would like to give a special shout-out to maz who left a comment yday on the last chapter which was so sweet and motivated me to finish writing the last 500 or so words to this chapter and uploading it. i'm very proud of this chapter and I hope you all love it as much as i do. every single scene is very important and i got much deeper into the characters, namely zayn, than last chapter. no promise on if/when i will upload again, so i apologize. but enough of that, happy reading!

Bright amber liquid sloshes around in Zayn’s glass as Louis speaks animatedly about Eliza’s party from Saturday night, the table jostling with his movements. They’re at The Lucky Duck’s, has been for almost an hour, the music thrumming and half-lucid people scattered throughout the bar. Zayn has already crushed Louis in a round of trivia, which Louis had pouted over for several minutes before accepting Zayn’s proposal for another round of beer to soothe his wounds. This led to several more rounds, Zayn now only slightly drunk and Louis nearly drunk off his arse. 

Louis is in the middle of telling another story, the Yorkshire in his voice growing thicker the more intoxicated he becomes,“So I’ve just gotten done doing a line yea, and then this beefy alpha who looks like he eats steroids for breakfast starts kissing up me neck,” Louis exclaims, “and at first I’m not into it because I’m just trying to enjoy my high but then next thing I know, we’re totally doing it there on the couch.”

The recount comes as no surprise to Zayn, Louis being a free spirit who frequently has alphas, betas, and omegas alike passing in and out of his bed, or couch in this scenario, like a rotating door. The mention of cocaine is neither a shock either. Louis is a habitual drug user, which for Zayn to criticize Louis would be like the pot calling the kettle black, seeing as Zayn often cycles through cigarettes, weed, and the occasional xanax.

“I’m in his lap, jeans pushed down just enough for him to stick his cock in and-”

“Ok Lou, I get it,” Zayn interrupts, holding a hand up as if to physically stop Louis from continuing. Louis’s his best friend, and along with holding this position comes hearing some rather graphic details about Louis’s sex life. However, Louis can get a bit too detailed sometimes. For example, one time Zayn had to endure a tale about Louis getting fucked by two alphas while he simultaneously fucked another omega in the grocery store restroom, leaving Zayn’s ears nearly bleeding by the time Louis had finished narrating the report. He’s learned it’s best to cut Louis short before he gets too into the zone to be stopped. 

Louis falters, lips already formed around the next word he was about to spout before he nods, remarking a “fair enough,” and picks up his mug for another sip of beer. 

“So,” Louis begins again, hesitating before he continues, “Friday makes the nineteenth of October,” he trails off, nervously biting his lip as he peers up at Zayn in anticipation of Zayn’s reaction to the statement. It’s a rare sight to see Louis so uncomfortable and anxious, usually so confident in his every move, however, the topic he’s attempting to broach is a touchy one. 

Zayn freezes, clamming up as he slowly places the glass that was halfway to his mouth back down on the tabletop, instantly sobering up. He stays silent, hoping Louis will change the subject if he doesn’t respond. Instead, Louis notices the tension in Zayn’s body coiled tightly and barrels on once he realizes Zayn won’t be answering him. 

“You don’t have to be alone, Zayn,” Louis tentatively starts, reaching a hand across the table to lay it atop Zayn’s in a gesture of support, “We can spend the day in doing whatever you want,” he offers, squeezing Zayn’s hand at the end.

The nineteenth of October has become a hard pill for Zayn to swallow, Friday making it the second year he’s been forced to choke it down. He appreciates Louis’s willingness to comfort him and be there for him on this day, however, it’s still not an easy subject for him to discuss. 

“I know,” Louis wavers, his courage fizzling out as he takes a deep breath before resuming the one-sided conversation, “I know it’s difficult for you to open up about and I know I never met them, but just know your parents would be so proud of you,” Louis encourages, “your sisters too,” he tacks on as an afterthought. 

Zayn flinches, squeezing his eyes shut at the mention of his parents and sisters. Unknowingly, he’s clenched his fingers tight into a fist during Louis’s speech, fingernails biting into his palms. He loosens his hold once he notices, flexing his fingers to disperse the strain in them as he inspects the stinging crescent-shaped marks left behind in their wake. This is always what happens to him when he’s involuntarily made to think of his family, anxiety seeming to claw its way up his throat, choking him in the process.

Zayn musters a weak smile offering a faint, “thank you,” as he nods his head in agreeance to Louis’s statement. Last year, Zayn having barely lived in Clearwater for ten months had been just as glum on the nineteenth as he’s sure he will be this year. Louis, having self-appointed himself as Zayn’s new best friend after sharing a spliff with him on Zayn’s first night at Black Pony, had sidled up to Zayn at the local nightclub when he spotted Zayn alone and drinking himself into a stupor. Unbeknownst to Louis, Zayn had popped three xanax and an ecstasy pill prior to his arrival, doing his best to drown out the toxic thoughts swimming around in his mind. 

After multiple humorous attempts to crack whatever it was causing Zayn such distress, guesses of “your dick appointment canceled” and “you’ve insane constipation” being speculated, Zayn finally broke down and explained that the nineteenth was the anniversary of his entire family, composed of his mother, father, and three sisters, passing away in a car accident. Louis had grown quiet, a sad expression increasingly deepening across his features at the confession. Louis had wrapped his arms around Zayn in a consoling hug once Zayn had finished speaking, Zayn immediately curling into the embrace and silently weeping into Louis’s shoulder as he did so. 

The ache every time he thinks about his family still hasn’t gone away, Zayn only having learned how to live with the stabbing pain a short while ago. 

“Sorry to ruin the evening, just thought I’d remind you I’m always there for you,” Louis adds after a lull of silence. “S’okay, I needed to hear that,” Zayn quickly counters, not wanting Louis to feel bad about a situation he played no part in. 

“Oh shit, I love this song. Come dance with me,” Louis exclaims, lighting up at the sound of Can’t Fight the Moonlight beginning to play as he changes the subject. He grabs Zayn’s hand and yanks him from his seat as Louis pulls him onto the dancefloor while mouthing along to the lyrics. Zayn stiffly follows, caught off-guard with the switch in temperament before he tentatively begins to move along to the beat until he’s fully dancing, hand still tangled loosely with Louis’s. 

And like that, the gloomy atmosphere dissipates with a shake of Louis’s hips and flip of Zayn’s hair as they belch out you can try to resist, try to hide from my kiss into the night air. 

-

A shiver cascades throughout Zayn’s body, the cool night air nipping at his skin as it blows by, the emergence of fall present in the mid-October weather. It’s the next day and he’s standing out front his apartment, waiting for Liam to arrive. His cheeks are tinged pink from the cold and he shifts from foot to foot in hopes of staying warm with the movement. Zayn has been waiting on the sidewalk for roughly five minutes, Liam having told him to be ready at seven. 

As the bright screen of his phone flashes back a 6:59 PM when he checks it, a familiar rumble starts down the street, Zayn straightening at the sound of it. 

Right on time, as always. 

Seconds pass by before a sleek, jet black motorcycle with the stark neon green artwork of the Phantoms on the side glides down the road, coming to a stop in front of Zayn. Once the motorcycle has been propped up to keep from falling, Liam slings his leg over the side of the bike to face Zayn, unbuckling his helmet and taking it off as he does so. A breeze blows by, whisking the delicious pine and leather musk of the alpha’s scent under Zayn’s nose, arousal beginning to pool in his stomach at the richness of it. 

Smooth, chocolate irises take him in, Liam’s eyes quickly darting over the mesh crop top Zayn is sporting, to the tight black skinnies typically adorning his body, and finally landing on the scuffed boots encasing his feet. Immediately, Liam’s eyes drift back to the mesh crop top adorning Zayn’s chest, his pert nipples pebbled behind the cloth from the cold. 

Liam walks forward, hands grabbing onto Zayn’s hips once he’s close enough, then slithering up under his shirt as Liam basically salivates at the mouth. Liam lowly whistles and huskily murmurs, “Damn, baby,” lust dripping from his tone, “looking good.”

Zayn grins at the sexually charged compliment, unconsciously placing his own hands low on Liam’s hips. “Hello to you too,” he playfully remarks, leaning up for a chaste kiss as a greeting. Liam graciously accepts the kiss, stepping closer and moving both hands down to palm and squeeze Zayn’s arse as he roughly deepens the kiss into something much dirtier. Zayn, caught off-guard, stumbles into Liam, mewling as he tightens his hold on Liam’s hips for a brief moment as he adjusts to the assault.

A warm tongue slips into Zayn’s mouth, tangling with his own as they sloppily makeout. Zayn can hear his heart rapidly thundering in his chest and feel the sickeningly sweet slick beginning to leak from his hole as Liam affects him in a way only he can.

With a light suck on his tongue and flick that absolutely drives Zayn crazy, Liam momentarily draws back, trailing gentle kisses and licks down Zayn’s neck, Zayn quietly moaning at the action, before he returns to Zayn’s lips, and presses his erection firmly against Zayn’s. Eventually, after numerous liplocks and groans, Zayn draws away for air once his lungs begin to feel like they’ll burst, from lack of oxygen or a burning emotion Zayn refuses to acknowledge, he’s not sure. Liam lightly tugs on Zayn’s bottom lip before he too pulls away, though his palms still cup Zayn’s bum. 

“Ready?”

Zayn, still resting his weight on Liam, takes a second to examine the alpha, not having a moment too after immediately being felt up and attacked once Liam stepped off his motorcycle. His lips are wet, swollen from the makeout session they shared, his pupils are blown wide with desire, the black nearly covering the entire iris, and his hair messy from Zayn raking his fingers through the soft locks. Liam looks ethereal and like everything Zayn can’t have, a handsome alpha so in love and content to be with him. 

But, there’s no one to blame except himself; Zayn made his bed and he’s been lying in it, slowly decaying, for past decisions he made a long time ago. So, Zayn, not in the slightest ready, ready to be surrounded all night by the one drug he’s most addicted to, pushes off of Liam, adjusting himself until he’s stood erect, clothes straightened and features back to their steady, nonchalant manner and fixes a smirk in Liam’s direction before replying.

“Yea.”

\- 

The house party is in full swing as members of the Phantoms are scattered around Liam’s backyard and living room, the many scents of alphas, betas, and omegas mingling together to one muted undertone of tranquility. Numerous drugs and bottles of liquor are littered throughout the house as well, smoke clouding the air, though cocaine is the most prominent narcotic seeing as it’s what the Phantoms are most notorious for. 

Two omegas and a sickly looking beta are currently bent over the coffee table centered in the room, doing a line of cocaine, one after the other. One of the omegas, a lithe brunette wearing nothing but figure-hugging shorts, throws his head back after snorting all of the crystallized powder, his pupils blown wide from the high. His euphoric expression is exactly how Zayn feels with Liam’s hand intertwined with his, acting as a beacon as Liam leads them through the crowd as it parts like the Red Sea for the alpha. Zayn feels untouchable as every pair of eyes they pass is glued to him and Liam, some filled with jealousy, some with disgust, and others with lust, people either wishing they were Zayn or they were Liam. 

Shouts can be heard over the music, faceless Phantom members calling out to Liam when they spot him, though none speak to Zayn. The Phantoms aren’t exactly fans of Zayn, thinking him as a whore who’s no good for their alpha seeing as Liam is clearly and unabashedly in love with Zayn while Zayn refuses to devote himself to Liam. Zayn finds it hilarious that he, an omega stripper, is the one they believe to bad for Liam, an alpha leader of a gang which partakes in numerous illegal activities, all because he has commitment issues.

However, two Phantom’s who don’t hate Zayn’s guts are currently wrapped around each other on the living room’s couch sharing a blunt as they converse, too enveloped in each other to notice Liam and Zayn approaching.

The two betas, Niall and Harry, are one of the few staple couples in the Phantoms, having been together for nearly three years now and mated for one. Many idolize the partnership the two have, Zayn often finding himself envious of the tender relationship they share as Harry frequently dotes upon Niall while Niall nurtures and caters to Harry’s every need. Despite this, there’s a reason Harry is Liam’s second in command, Zayn having witnessed with his own eyes Harry slaughtering nine enemy gang members for trying to intrude on their turf, Niall being no less brutal. 

Niall, the brunette beta with licks of blonde on the tips of his hair from growing out the dyed golden mane, pulls away from shotgunning Harry, a dopey smile gracing his lips. He’s sat in Harry’s lap, fingers mindlessly combing through Harry’s curly locks as the latter soothingly rubs up and down the side of Niall’s thigh, his arm tucked securely around the former blonde’s waist. 

Zayn used to be extremely uncomfortable at their sheer display of affection but has since grown to learn how to smother the discomfort which is what he does when Liam clears his throat in attempts to gain the couple’s attention, plastering a friendly smile on. Harry perks up at the sound of the alpha, snapping his focus to Liam while Niall leans back to lay his head on Harry’s shoulder to pear up at the both of them. 

“Hey,” Niall announces, his eyes hazy from the drugs in his system. Zayn shouts a, “hey,” back over the music while Liam nods his head in greeting.

“Looks like you two got started without us,” Liam observes, moving to sit down on the sofa beside Harry as he drags Zayn down with him so that Zayn is facing Niall, Zayn rearranging himself until he’s comfortable and mirrors Niall by laying his head on Liam’s shoulder. “All this fresh produce is too hard to resist,” Harry vocalizes, motioning to the remnants of cocaine on the coffee table as an example, the omegas, and beta who left it behind now staring dazedly around, a fog clouding their vision. 

Liam laughs, the rumbles of it tickling against Zayn’s side, “I see.” His eyes scan the ruffled attire of Harry before drifting around the room. An alpha and omega in the corner grinding against each other, a group of alphas near the sliding doors that lead to the backyard passing around a clear liquor, each taking a swig when it’s passed to them, are just a few of the many spectacles cluttering the nearby area. 

A calloused hand slyly slithers into Liam’s pocket to unveil a ziplock bag of a familiar white powder, though it glistens slightly different from the standard cocaine, almost purer. “A new shipment of Widow just came in,” Liam shakes the bag, implying the baggie currently contains a sample of it, “Want some?” 

Widow is the most untainted, unfiltered version of cocaine and has an otherworldly effect on users. It’s highly sought after due to the way it affects each person in dramatically different ways, though each differing high amazing.

Before Niall or Harry can answer, Zayn snatches the bag from out of Liam’s grip, eager to inhale the quickest form of escape from the brewing shitstorm of the nineteenth. He needs this, craves it actually, the blood pumping in his veins thirsty for the drug, Zayn planning to quench this thirst.

Shocked, since Zayn has never once partaken in the enjoyment of the narcotic before, Liam pauses, eyebrows raised, before a slow, satisfied smile creeps into place.

-

Another ping pong ball bounces off the edge of the table, Zayn entirely missing the red solo cup as he’s presently floating on a cloud of euphoria. His vision is swimming, but he feels so good, body numb and loose from the Widow and alcohol he’s ingested. A game of beer pong has been going on for the past twenty minutes, Liam and Zayn versus the team of Niall and Harry. 

The couple is beating them to a pulp, Niall carrying the duo as the Widow only seems to cause him to become hyper-focused while alternatively, Harry mindlessly tosses the ball, no finesse in his attempts. Zayn has been made to consume most of the cups of beer, Niall challenging him each time it’s his turn while Liam has drunk only two cups seeing as that’s all Harry has scored. 

“Oopsie,” Zayn exaggeratedly giggles at his mistake, covering his mouth with his hand in an effort to appear coy as he slumps back into the hard mass of Liam. His throat suddenly feels parched and forgetting the rules, Zayn reaches for another cup to slurp down. However, Liam intercepts him. “I think you’ve had enough,” he quietly murmurs into Zayn’s ear. _Enough? _Zayn’s barely gotten started.__

____

He tries to grab for the cup again, and again Liam stops him, instead of pulling Zayn further into his grip and begins to rock them back and forth to the beat of the music rather than try to argue with Zayn in this state. Immediately, Zayn forgets what he’d previously been doing, his short-term memory short-circuited thanks to the Widow coursing through his veins, and he begins to grind against Liam as he melts into him. Liam’s chest is plastered to his back and his arse is pressed firmly against Liam’s groin, zero space separating their bodies. 

Niall and Harry are back to being consumed with each other since Zayn effectively ended the game. Harry’s tongue is shoved far into Niall’s mouth while the latter is perched on the pingpong table, Harry groping his arse. “I didn’t think Britney Spears was someone who’s music you could dance so raunchily to,” Liam comments, humor lacing his voice. Toxic is thumping in the background, the high-pitched pop music mainly being ignored as most continue to sloppily dance much like Zayn, though none of them are able to roll their hips just the way he can. Zayn couldn’t care less what song is playing, shit, no song could be flowing through the stereos and he’d still be rhythmically swaying in the night air considering how blissful he’s feeling. 

Offhandedly, Zayn slurs back, “It’s Saf’s favorite song,” the words that escape his mouth not registering until after he’s said them. For a few passing moments, he continues to gyrate his arse in lethargic circles against Liam’s crotch before stiffening, halting all movements. It’s like a bucket of chilling ice water has doused his body and he’s suddenly no longer cruising the Widow’s high, the reality of what he’s said crashing down on him.

Liam immediately notices the shift in his emotions and slows his body to a standstill to match Zayn’s and attempts to acquire Zayn’s attention. “Hey, no, it’s okay. Don’t think about them tonight,” Liam murmurs, turning Zayn in his arms when Zayn gives no inclination that he heard him. “You’re an amazing, sexy omega and you’re parents don’t deserve the right to ruin your fun,” Liam continues, emphasizing amazing and omega. Liam’s eyes search Zayn’s features for any recognition that he heard what Liam’s said, which Zayn regretfully did.

Something nasty claws at Zayn, pecking into his flesh at the pure inaccuracy of the words that left Liam’s pert lips, though he has no intentions of correcting him. 

_Where are you?_  
_Are you ok?  
_We don’t blame you  
_We love you Zayn _____

____

____

____

____

_Numerous text messages are streaming into his phone, all from the same sender. Zayn stares at them on last time, retaining the consolations to memory before he makes a rash decision. He lifts his arm up and swings it down, releasing his phone in the process so that it careens down to the cement. A loud shattering sound resounds throughout the quiet street, the cheap device smashing to pieces once it makes contact and marks the finality of his departure._

__

__

_The hard pavement is a promise to his new life as he pounds against it with his feet, running away from his past and into his future._

__

__

Zayn mechanically nods his head, mindlessly agreeing with Liam while he blankly stares out into the sea of people and limply resumes his movement against Liam as the memory creates a dark pit of sorrow and guilt that swallows him whole. 

-

It’s three a.m. on Friday morning, Zayn having called out from work despite Tyler arguing he couldn’t afford to give Zayn the night off, and a song that haunts Zayn each time it plays is humming throughout his apartment on replay. He’s basking in the early morning moments to himself before he has to muster the courage to smile and pretend he’s ok when he’s with Louis later today. Cigarettes, some half-smoked, others burnt down to almost nothing, are littered around his apartment either violently crushed into his flooring or haphazardly stubbed out in one of his numerous ashtrays. 

Zayn is sat on the edge of his bed in a wrinkled t-shirt and his boxers, popping a few xanax into his mouth and swallowing them dry as he stares down at a worn picture from months of folding and unfolding it. Zayn’s eyes are bloodshot from the tears that silently trail down his cheeks, a clear pathway the tears have traveled along his cheeks apparent from hours of crying. He blindly reaches for his pack of cigs, only two left, one now as Zayn stuffs it into his awaiting mouth and lights it, taking a slow drag. 

His mum and baba along with Safaa, Waliyah, and Doniya glare back at him, though their bright smiles don’t seem to correlate with how they make Zayn feel. A memory flashes seemingly on loop through his mind, non-stop as he gazes at the image in his hand.

_The air is thick with anger, Zayn refusing to look at Doniya as she yells at him, instead choosing to scowl out through the car window._

__

__

_“Zayn,” Doniya says, “Zayn, answer me,” she repeats, frustration rising in her voice as she stares over at Zayn from the driver’s seat. Zayn ignores her, only turning further away from her until a harsh grip lands on his arm and wrenches him towards the edge of the seat. He snaps his focus to his sister, her face drawn down in irritation, yet concern still underlying it._

__

__

_Zayn doesn’t deserve the lecture he’s receiving and is fed up with everyone trying to belittle him for the choices he’s made. Sick of the pity and outrage he’s acquired, Zayn jerks Doniya’s hand off of him and aggressively pushes her away._

__

__

_“Fuck you!” ___

____

____

“I’m so sorry,” Zayn mumbles through his tears, stroking a finger over Doniya’s face. His fingers forcefully shake as he takes another drag from his cigarette, nearly dropping it in the process. “I’m so so sorry,” he sobs, tears finally blurring his vision, a twisted way of relieving him from the torture of having to look at the one person he let down the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> muahahaha. I hope you are all very confused. Not to be captain obvious, but zayn's a big fat liar. hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> let me know what you guys thought of the chapter and your theories in the comments!


	3. chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a filler chapter but we get a nice zouis moment and even sweeter ziam moment.
> 
> enjoy.

His ashtray has been cleared, all the burnt cigarettes swept from the floor, and, most importantly, the photo of his family put back in his wallet when Louis nocks on his front door. The high he’s cruising on from the xanax, however, is still present. About ten minutes ago though, he’d ran a comb through his unruly locks before splashing some cool water onto his face to wake him up and some concealer underneath his eyes to cover the dark circles and bags he was sporting in order to make himself more presentable. 

Zayn’s alarm clock blairs a dull red 4:00 am, Louis having coming straight from his shift at Black Pony to Zayn’s, just as he’d promised. Zayn stands, striding over to the door and unlocking it to let Louis in. 

The door is hardly halfway open when Louis barges in and scoops Zayn into a warm hug, welcoming omega pheromones cocooning him in the embrace. Zayn hadn’t realized how long it’d been since he’d been hugged by an omega and how much he’d missed it. The calming and maternal scents of omegas are like nothing else compared to beta and alphas scents.

Omegas scents were meant to comfort while betas were rather neutral and alphas were sensual and musky to attract mates and off-put other alphas. Liam hugs him often, yet his would never compare to an omega’s clutch.

The last hug Zayn had from an omega prior to the current one was from his mum.

The realization only seems to pile another boulder onto the many others that are crushing him causing Zayn to release a choked sob and sink further into Louis arms.

“I know Zayn, I know. Just let it out,” Louis consoles, rubbing a hand up and down Zayn’s back as he fully breaks down into a full-blown wail. 

The drugs and alcohol in addition to the depression he’s fallen into over today’s anniversary aren’t helping and unknowingly he’s begun to blubber nonsense comments. “Sorry...I’m sorry....didn’t mean to….forgive me,” Zayn mumbles the words before exhaustion from not sleeping for nearly twenty-six hours kicks in and he slumps against Louis’s hold, eyes rolling back into his skull.

Startled, Louis shrieks at the deadweight Zayn’s suddenly become in his arms before he notices the slack expression across Zayn’s face and recognizes him as having passed out. Slowly he sinks down with Zayn’s slumped body to rest against the floor with Zayn’s head lolling in his lap. Once he’s settled, Louis closes the front door they’d forgotten in Louis’s haste to sooth Zayn.  
Louis softly combs his fingers through the thick thatch of hair upon Zayn’s head as his gaze traces his best friend’s features. “Oh Zayn, how I wish I could take your pain for you,” Louis sighs, continuing the rhythmic motion of petting through Zayn’s hair.

-

Hours later Zayn blinks awake to sunlight glinting in through the loan window in his apartment. It’s clearly well into the day. He must’ve fallen asleep on Louis.

Zayn asses his surroundings. A glass of water and a browning banana rest on his nightstand. The sheets are cool against his warm body while another body rests against his back. _Louis _. His arms slung around Zayn’s waist and hot puffs of breath are brushing against his neck as both of them are curled into the fetal position. Not an inch of space separates their bodies as Louis has Zayn in an Omega Embrace, a hold meant to subdue an erratic omega when they’ve begun to lose control of reality. The tight envelopment and closeness of another omega instantly relaxes the other omega, the impact increasing the longer an omega engages in the Omega Embrace or more omegas involved in it.__

____

Sweat prickles on Zayn’s neck, adding to the pool already formed from the heat of Louis’ body as Zayn’s mind begins to race with why exactly he’s in an Omega Embrace. _Fuck _. So, he hadn’t fallen asleep, only lost control of his emotions and fallen into a state of distress.__

____

Zayn was supposed to be in control when Louis came over. They were supposed to smoke a couple of joints, watch a few movies, maybe cuddle and then call it a night. Not Zayn have a mental breakdown and Louis be stuck taking care of him. This wasn’t Louis’s mess to clean up and Zayn wasn’t baggage Louis needed to be riddled with.

“Shut up, I can practically hear you thinking a mile-a-minute,” Louis mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

He huffs a laugh, Louis always knowing how to snap Zayn out of his spiraling dark thoughts. Zayn wiggles from Louis’ tight grasp, Louis whining at the loss of warmth, before slinking upright into a sitting position. Louis’s gaze trails Zayn’s movements, cautious of what Zayn’s next action may be. He’d dragged Zayn into the bed after an hour or two of being on the floor and had the idea to put Zayn into an Omega Embrace in hopes of further mollifying him. Zayn’s strained features had gradually cooled into sereneness once placed in the embrace and only then had Louis allowed himself to rest.

Seconds tick by with no movement from Zayn, the quietness of the apartment surrounding them in peacefulness. Zayn focuses on just breathing, on just being. 

“Lottie’s got herself a job,” Louis suddenly murmurs, voice hushed, “Proper makeup artist she is.” His eyes are trained on the cheap duvet Zayn hasn’t bothered to replace yet, fingers picking at an invisible thread. Zayn straightens at the admission, surprised at Louis divulging about his sister. “Yea?” He asks as he turns to look over at Louis, uncertain how much Louis’s willing to talk about Lottie. 

“Down at Westfield in one of their stores,” Louis continues, heart thundering in his chest but knowing this conversation is one of the only to draw Zayn out of his own mind.

Lottie is Louis’ sister, the oldest of his four sisters. Louis hasn’t seen her or his other siblings in almost six years since all the Tomlinson children were placed into foster families after Louis’s piece of shit step-dad beat Louis within an inch of his life and their neighbors finally had enough and called Child Protective Services on them. With his stepdad in custody and his mother having passed nearly two years before from cancer, Louis was taken in by a family of four, the Robinsons, and again subjected to physical abuse. He lasted seven months before running away when the mother, an Alpha, attempted to sexually assault him. 

Louis had only been sixteen at the time, thus too young to adopt his sisters; but, he’d been racked with fear and anger from the shitty circumstances he’d been through and was desperate for his family back. After breaking into the foster home CPS had dropped them into for the files on his sisters, he’d tracked them each down one by one only to find each time that his sisters were joyous and carefree with their foster families. So Louis, broken-hearted, had fled and hitchhiked until he finally arrived in Clearwater with no family and no friends to speak of. He eventually found Lottie on social media two years ago, the only one of his sisters he could locate, and had been keeping track of her since. 

Its what first bonded Louis and Zayn, their common tragedies of a life, and why they’re both so dedicated to being there for one another when needed.

“She-,” Zayn pauses to clear his throat when he hears how raspy he sounds, “She doin ok?” He questions, referring to Lottie’s relationship with her foster family.

Louis slowly nods, finally looking up from where his sight had been fixed to meet Zayn’s gaze. The rawness in Louis’s eye feel like a punch to the gut and immediately Zayn stops moping and wraps a hand around his best friend’s to comfort him the way he so kindly did for him hours ago. “Yea. I’m so proud of her Z,” Louis admits. His eyes have become misty talking about his sister. 

Zayn smiles weakly, allowing the sentiment to hang in the air between them for a few moments. “Anyways,” Louis announces after a few seconds pass by, attempting to return the conversation to a happier topic, “I knew she would be an amazing makeup artist considering how many makeovers she gave me when we were children. Swear I thought my lips would be stained hot pink permanently with how many times she forced me to wear it,” he chuckles, nostalgia clouding his voice.

“Oh please, Lottie didn’t force you to do anything. We both know the kink you have for pink lipstick,” Zayn teases Louis, aiming to raise Louis’s spirits.

Louis dissolves into laughter at the comment, grabbing at his side when it begins to hurt from laughing so hard. Zayn can’t help but to mimic Louis’s contagious laughing and join in until both of them have tears in their eyes from the amusement of Louis’s fetishes. Finally, the chuckles disperse into childlike giggles and Louis wipes away the wetness from his cheeks and responds, “Touche.” 

Zayn releases a final giggle at the agreeance and lays back down to face Louis, mirth sprawled across both their features. It feels so good to laugh and smile seeing as it’s been so long since Zayn did so so genuinely. However, the glee slips gradually from Louis' face and is soon replaced by a more serious appearance. All good things must come to an end at some point. 

“Zayn, you know I’ll always be there for you, right?” Louis inquires, reservation floating across his face at the words he spoke. 

A modest smile curls itself onto Zayn’s lips, a tender ache of fondness swirling throughout his body at the sincerity of Louis statement. “Yea. I know, Lou.”

-

Louis and he had spent the remainder of their time together after their heart-to-heart conversation gossiping like school girls and playing elementary games like MASH. Zayn ended up marrying Zac Efron, driving a Charger, living in a shack, and have 14 kids. Exciting. 

Eventually, Louis left around three for a meetup or something with his latest fuck buddy leaving Zayn to his own devices. Liam had been texting him throughout the morning and afternoon with random tidbits about his day and corny jokes in hopes of distracting Zayn about the anniversary until finally inviting him over before Zayn went into work for the night. 

It’s half four now and Zayn swings the door closed of the uber once he’s stepped out onto the sidewalk and starts his way towards the meter high gated fence. He lets himself in and then knocks on the front door of Liam’s flat. Rustling is heard behind the door before Liam calls out from inside that the door’s open. 

Odd. 

First, Liam had offered to call him an uber, which, nine times out of ten Liam picks Zayn up himself. Then, he doesn’t even open the door of his flat for Zayn when typically Liam’s waiting for him on the pavement if he’s unable to get Zayn from his place. 

Undeterred though, Zayn turns the doorknob and pushes into the threshold of the flat and is greeted with the most romantic, amazing scene he’s ever seen. 

Rose petals are scattered across the floor, a crimson hue illuminates the room as Miguel drifts in through speakers, chocolate covered strawberries and a giant bouquet in the shape of a teddy bear rests on the counter. 

It’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for him and Zayn feels like he could melt into a literal puddle right now. He _knew _something was up, but never could have imagined this is what he’d walk into. And of course, the cherry on top, Liam Payne is stood in the center of the room, a tender smile spread across his lips.__

____

“Oh my gosh Liam,” Zayn gasps, at a loss for words at what Liam’s done for him. “What is all of this?” He questions, turning in a slow circle to take everything in again. 

A wider grin splits Liam’s lips as the skin around his eyes wrinkle just the way Zayn does _not _adore. “Just a little something to take your mind off of reality,” he shrugs as if this entire display is no big deal as if it doesn’t make and break Zayn’s heart a million times over.__

____

__

Instead of letting his mind go somewhere dark, Zayn takes a moment to drink in Liam’s appearance for once rather than Liam taking his in. A beige henley pulls tights across his chest, loose jeans rest on his waist, and black Chelsea boots adorn his feet. He can’t wait for Liam to fuck the shit out of him, which, if Zayn has any say in it, will be in about five minutes or so. 

Heat pools in the pit of Zayn’s stomach and slick starts to dampen his underwear as it drips from his hole before Zayn saunters over to Liam with the most alluring stare he can muster. 

“Is that so?”

Liam steadily nods, eyes rapidly focused on Zayn as he adds a twist to his hips, a bite to his lip, and flicks his notorious bambi eyes up through his long lashes at Liam. When Zayn reaches Liam he trails a finger down his chest, circling a nipple before reaching down to cup Liam through his pants, causing Liam to jerk at the touch.

He leans up on the tips of his toes, “I want you to bend me over this counter and fuck me until I forget my own name,” Zayn whispers, sexily nipping Liam’s ear as he pulls away to give him his best doe eyes. Liam groans at the sharp sting, a thick wave of musky pheromones rushing out from him, only arousing Zayn more.

Hunger rapidly covers Liam’s features, looking all too similar to a starving dog waiting for its owner to toss it a bone. Which, if that isn’t the perfect analogy for Zayn and Liam’s situationship, Zayn doesn’t know what is. 

However, Liam ruins every dirty idea Zayn has for their evening when he, regretfully so, pushes Zayn off of him. “Later,” the only consolation he offers before placing a chaste kiss to Zayn’s lips. 

“Oi! You said all this was to get my mind off reality or some shite and you’re not even allowing me to do the one thing that's sure to take me out of this universe,” Zayn complains, whining. He goes to paw at Liam’s chest but is again rebuked, though this time Liam wraps his hands around Zayn’s wrists and pulls him into a searing kiss. Immediately, Liam’s tongue plunges into the cavernous walls of Zayn’s mouth to tangle with Zayn’s own tongue. The raunchiest moan Zayn’s ever produced explodes from his chest at the action and when he goes to clutch at Liam’s shoulders, Liam only tightens his hold even further. 

Zayn’s sure he’ll have bruises tomorrow and he can’t wait to press deeply into them until a pain shoots up his arm to remind him of just what they got up to the night before. But the kiss is over sooner than it started and when Liam pulls away Zayn feels like he’s just gone through a whirlwind. 

“Woah,” Zayn involuntarily whispers under his breath.

Liam smirks, sharp ears picking up the surprised admission. “I thought we’d start the evening off differently,” he says, reaching around Zayn to grab a remote control and turn the volume up on the music playing. 

_When the rain is blowing in your face_  
And the whole world is on your case  
I could offer you a warm embrace __

____

____

“Here,” Liam pronounces, grabbing Zayn’s left hand and placing it high on his upper arm and his right clasped in Liam’s own hand, Zayn like a ragdoll as he mindlessly moves to Liam’s liking. Liam then moves his free hand to wrap snugly around Zayn’s waist as he slowly rocks them back and forth, his gaze locked onto Zayn’s with a fierce devotion. The need for words no longer a requirement as the music says everything Liam feels. 

_I know you haven't made your mind up yet_  
But I will never do you wrong  
I've known it from the moment that we met __

____

____

Zayn is breathless with a storm of conflicting emotions as his throat seems to constrict with it all: adoration, regret, euphoria, shame. With no clue as to what to say or do, Zayn decides to swallow the pain and accept the happiness life has given him for the moment. He lays his head down on Liam’s shoulder and closes his eyes to let Liam’s entire being consume him. 

_I could make you happy, make your dreams come true_  
There's nothing that I wouldn't do  
Go to the ends of this Earth for you  
To make you feel my love, oh yes __

____

____

They sway to Adele’s voice until Zayn can’t remember his name.


End file.
